


In Too Deep

by Silverhawk



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Adventure, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-24
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:23:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverhawk/pseuds/Silverhawk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An avid gamer wakes up in middle of the Gallows, with no idea how she got there, a handful of things that she'd had with her... and a group of templars surrounding her...</p><p>Things can only get better, right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And so it begins...

The first thing she noticed was that she was on the ground, her bag and belongings were scattered in the snow around her. The second thing that she noticed was that things were… wrong. Familiar, but she wasn’t sure why. She was certain that she’d never been here before. The third thing… and at the moment, the most important, was that there were several men rushing toward her all clad in armor and with swords drawn. She scrambled to grab the closest item to her, when one of the men reached down and grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up. The item was her cute purple stun gun, which she pressed to the man’s hand and discharged. First time she’d used it. Ever… Cause really? Guys wandering around in armor? With swords? Not right.

 

The man collapsed into a twitching heap on the ground, dropping her in the process—her gaze was on the man convulsing in awe and horror. Maybe it was worse because he was in armor? It served its purpose though, as the others were watching her and moving much more cautiously now. She heard the word, “Mage.”

 

“We need to take her to the Knight Captain.” “She looks like someone, doesn’t she?” “What in the Maker’s name is she wearing?” “More like not wearing.”

 

Two of the men came in closer, each grabbing her by an arm, and hauling her up to her feet after they jerked the taser from her. Another of the men was collecting her things as the pulled her across the courtyard into a hallway where they knocked on the door, waiting for the accompanying “Come in.”

 

Her temper snapped after she was forced inside and shoved down into a chair, and she delivered a swift kick to the man who had shoved her. She was fairly certain that he wouldn’t have felt it anyway because of the armor, but it was satisfying. The man raised a gauntleted hand to strike her, but was stopped by sharp words from across the office. “Karras. That is enough.” The red headed brute froze, his gaze narrowing on her, as she fought down the urge to give him a cocky smirk. Probably no reason to goad him further. The voice from across the room was slightly exasperated, “Now. What happened?”

 

“This woman is a MAGE.” The man before her bellowed. She just blinked at him.

 

There was the sound of metal scraping against metal as the other man stood, and footsteps as he walked over, “A mage, mm?” He asked, his gaze landed on her and his eyes widened as he took in the long red hair, the stubborn set of her jaw, the womanly curves that he wasn’t supposed to notice as a templar, but was impossible to ignore due to the odd clothes she wore. “Hawke?? What are you _wearing_?”

 

She scowled, she’d been wearing shorts and a tank top, which was appropriate when she’d been at home, and it had been excruciatingly hot… She hadn’t really expected to wake up some place weird, in the middle of the freaking winter. ‘Lay off the clothes.’ She thought, then realized that she recognized the voice… Her eyes darted up, and realization came crashing down on her when she saw the man—and he had called her Hawke. She stood, quicker even than she knew she could, sending the chair tumbling, her eyes wide (panicked) and skin paler than normal (hard to do). She recognized these men now. These were templars. _That_ one was Cullen and she had just seen all of them on her television screen the night before, while she’d been playing the Dragon Age games. “I’m not…”

 

Cullen had stiffened, and his eyebrows lowered, “No.. You’re not quite… Who are you?”

 

“Knight Captain, this woman is a MAGE, who ATTACKED one of our own MEN. She MUST be punished!!” Karras really needed a lesson on inside voices.

 

“Not a mage.” She said darkly.

 

“You lying whore. You attacked my man with lightning. Magic. Do you DENY that?”

 

She squared her shoulders, “Yes. You pretentious dick, I do. I attacked your man with electricity. Not magic.” Her gaze had travelled to where one of the other templars held her tazer awkwardly studying it.

 

That was why she didn’t see the hand come up to grab her by the throat, and entirely why she released a startled squeak as he shoved her and pinned her to the wall. “You DARE to disrespect me, whore?”

 

The control she had on her temper was slipping, and she nearly sneered a reply, when the curious templar, grabbed her pepper spray. He was eyeing the little black container, turning it just, so… Straight at Cullen, who was looking **not happy** at Karras. “You really shouldn’t be pointing that at—“ She cut herself off as his finger hit, “Don’t touch that button!!!!” And Cullen turned at just the wrong time to catch a steady stream of pepper spray fully in the face. He cursed (which she always assumed templars weren’t supposed to do) as both of his hands lifted to rub at his eyes. All of the other templars had started coughing, and vacated the room as soon as the burning started, and the pepper fog spread throughout the room. Her eyes were burning too and her first instinct was to get as far away as she could from (what she assumed would be) the Gallows while she had a distraction. The others would all be trying to recoop, and rubbing at their eyes too.. But she saw Cullen reaching blindly, trying to find something to orientate himself and really, he hadn’t done anything to deserve this. ‘Stupid conscience. Kinda hate you.’

 

So, of course, while her instincts were screaming at her to ‘For God’s sakes, RUN, you idiot!’ she instead reached out to take his arm and lead him from the room.

Author note: Please note that I do not have a beta reader, so any errors are my own, and I apologize for them. If you feel so inclined, please let me know what you think... I'm motivated to write this one right now. : )


	2. Get off on the pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So yeah, way shorter than I intended this chapter to be, but wanted to get something up before the weekend. Next we'll get a peek at Cullen's mind frame..

Once they made it back out to the Gallows, Cullen was gasping, wheezing and still digging at his eyes. A hand clamped down painfully on her shoulder, “You aren’t going anywhere, _mage._ ” She jerked her shoulder, but she didn’t shake the man’s grip.

 

She coughed several times, eyes watering as she glanced again at Cullen, “I need water.” She said hoarsely—though she didn’t mean for herself. The Knight Captain fell forward to his knees, and she almost knocked the templar holding her off his feet with the abruptness in which she hit her knees beside Cullen. It appeared he was having a full blown reaction. “Super awesome.” She muttered, then, “I need water. For *him*! **NOW!** ” She snapped loudly. Fortunately, one of the men apparently finally realized the distress that his commanding officer was in and took off—hopefully after water. Cullen looked on the verge of panic though, as he couldn’t draw a full breath, nor open his eyes. “Cullen? Cullen, listen to me.” She said softly, “Alright?” he nodded once. “I’m going to hold you to me. Try to focus on my breathing, try to match it. Please don’t panic.” ‘Please don’t die.’ She would question the logic of that fear later… could a video game character actually die? Because games could always be restarted. Rebooted. And this was just a dream anyway, right? A freaky-whacked-out-too-much-time-playing-games-before-bed type of dream. So he couldn’t *really* die, if he wasn’t real. Right? Right. Pulling him closer to her, she rested his head against her chest, and squeezed his hand, the only parts not covered with plate mail.

 

He felt real.

 

Panic started to build up in her chest, threatening to overwhelm her. She didn’t want to think about what that could mean, so she forced her mind elsewhere. ‘Focus on helping him.’ She glanced down at him, noticing the area around his eyes was an angry looking pink already, but she spoke softly to him—nonsense mostly, because as bad as it looked, she was more concerned about his breathing for the moment than his sight. When the templar who’d ran to fetch the water returned, she ripped at one of her sleeves, and when it let loose, dipped it into the water and used it to gently wipe across the irritated skin. She dipped it into the water again, “Can you try to open your eyes Cullen? We need to flush them with water. It probably won’t make the pain go away, but it should help.” He sucked in a breath, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like a curse (again) as he forced his eyes open to slits. She lifted the cloth and squeezed it so the water would run over his eyes. “Breathe.” She gently commanded. She repeated the process with the cloth and water, “Breathe.” He was still wheezing, but the gasps were starting to come less frequently. She’d given the man a freaking asthma attack.

 

Who knew?

 

She dipped the cloth and dabbed across the skin around his eyes, hoping to get the worst of the spray off, trying to remember to have him wash or at least rinse his hands when he got up… She shivered, as some of the water dripped from his face to her leg… bringing the fact that she was wearing **shorts** and kneeling in a couple inches of snow with a man in a metal suit lying across her legs came roaring back to the forefront of her mind. She dabbed his eyes a few more times… “Is it starting to feel any better?” He nodded again, his eyes opening just a bit more. The whites of his eyes were horribly red… Poor guy.


	3. Trouble

Cullen forced his eyes open again and the woman poured more of the cool water over them. She was murmuring softly in his ear and his reaction to that, coupled with the fact that she was cradling him in her arms one hand idly stroking his cheek, was unexpected… Not because she was hideous—far from it—and not because he didn’t have desires (all men did) but his reaction to a woman he’d not met? An accused mage? His reaction was as a young (ish) man, not the response that a templar should be having. Honestly though, if she were actually a mage, she would have likely taken the opportunity—his incapacitation—and she would have ran. He blinked again, once again taken back by the resemblance she had to Hawke. ‘How is that even possible?’ He closed his eyes again, letting them water a bit and slowly clear a little. When he looked up, his eyes finally focusing a bit he met her gaze. Green eyes. He realized that she did resemble Hawke—but not as much as his first glance of her had initially seemed. She had a… softness that he had rarely seen and… and definitely not in Hawke. He saw her lips move, and realized belatedly that she was saying something to him, he finally caught, “How does it feel?” her words were soft enough that he was certain he was the only one who heard it.

 

He took quick assessment of himself. Head pounding? Check. Throat sore and raw? Check. Eyes feeling tender and still burning? Check. As it were he would survive… He’d survived worse, after all. “I’ll live.” He stated, his voice barely more than a croak.

 

“Knight Captain?” One of his men coughed, “Are you alright Ser?”

 

His man’s voice reminded him that he wasn’t alone with her. Not that he needed to be—or wanted to be, of course… He sat up, forcing himself not to scowl at the younger man simply for showing concern. “I’ll be fine.” He coughed, trying to clear his throat.

 

“Ser, the woman,” Karras said, “She must be punished.”

 

Cullen glanced at the woman who was shivering now, still crouched down in the snow with so few clothes (such odd clothes). He had never seen clothes remotely close to what the girl wore. He realized though that Karras was right. Cullen would have to investigate—and until they found out for certain if she was a mage or not, she would have to be punished. She’d attacked one of his men… Some part of his mind though sputtered over the ‘punish her’ and returned with some mental images that caused the tiniest bit of a blush to cross his cheeks. Fortunately it was cold enough outside that he, if asked, could attribute it to the weather. “Take her to the holding cells.” He ordered.

 

Green eyes widened, “What?!” she cried, “No!”

 

“She will remain there until such time as I determine whether or not she is a mage.”

 

~~~~

 

Betrayal burned across her face as she stared at him when Karras said, “Excellent.” He then came forward and wrenched her up by one arm which he twisted awkwardly behind her to keep her struggling to a minimum. She stopped moving immediately, not wanting to do actual permanent damage to her shoulder. “Let’s get you to your new, temporary home, mage.”

 

“I. Am. Not. A. Mage. Jackhole.” She bit off, “If I were, you can guarantee I would be electrocuting your ass by now.” She jerked, as he tightened his grip—It obviously hurt, “I can walk just fine by myself, thank you very much.”

 

Karras’ used his free hand to grab her by the hair, releasing her arm. He pulled her close to him, muttering into her hair, “Keep pushing your luck girl. You’ll see first hand what happens to smart mouth mages in the Gallows.”

 

She was fairly certain that if it weren’t for Cullen standing watching him, the words would have been accompanied by something violent or creepy. Despite that fact (ok, so maybe because of it) she said, “Right. And when it’s proven that I’m not a mage—and it will be proven that I’m not—I’ll show you just what happens to douchebag templars who like to abuse their power.”

 

Cullen blinked, not understanding one of the words that she’d used except he could tell that it was derogatory. That said—he didn’t approve of the way that Karras was treating her. The woman hadn’t done anything to Karras specifically but he was being especially hateful to her. “Release her Karras. I will escort her to the cells myself.” She was still scowling.

 

Karras’ grip on her hair tightened minutely—enough so that she thought that he was going to rip a large chunk out of her head. “But Knight Captain, ser, is that wise? Should she attack you? Has your vision returned to normal?”

 

Cullen frowned at the lower ranking man, unappreciative of him questioning his orders, “I can see just fine.” He stated, a small fib, “and I am perfectly capable of fending off one possible apostate.” Karras had definitely forgotten the stories that he had to have heard regarding Cullen’s time in Ferelden. An apostate was really the least of his worries, and he still wasn’t convinced that this girl was one. “Ser Karras.” His gaze leveled where the elder man still held the woman by her hair.

 

The red haired templar did not look happy, but released his grip on the woman’s hair, “As you wish Knight Captain.” He muttered to her, “Thank your stars mage.” He turned and stalked across the Gallows pretty undoubtedly furious that his ‘charge’ had been taken from him.

 

Cullen unconsciously sighed, unsure how Karras had been accepted into the order. They didn’t usually accept children. She had turned her scowl fully on him now, her posture straight and rigid as they walked back into the hallway that led to his office and the holding cells. The scent of pepper spray still lingered in the air. Cullen opened a doorway across from his office, which held three small cells. Small to the point that if she wanted to, she wouldn’t be able to lay down in them. No bed. Just a five by five with a bucket for waste. He opened the barred door, allowing her to walk in then shut it behind her. He stood watching her for a long moment, and she stared impassively back at him. She felt her lips pull when she couldn’t help but tell him, “You really need to wash your hands. That spray sticks to things—if you touch your eyes it’s going to irritate them all over again.” Even though she was well and thoroughly ticked off, she wasn’t generally mean and she didn’t want him going through that a second time.

 

Cullen looked surprised, then looked down at his hands, “Thank you.” He said softly.

 

She gave him a half hearted smile, shivered, then sat heavily on the floor in one of the corners. “Anytime. Thanks for not letting your guy rip anymore hair out of my head.” She wrapped her arms around her legs, resting her chin on her knees, trying to keep her teeth from chattering. Cullen got an eyeful of leg, before dutifully averting his eyes and stepping out of the room. She sighed, tilting her head down so it was her forehead resting on her knees then.

 

When he walked back in, she glanced up having heard him. He offered her a blanket between the bars, “Here. Most of the rooms here are drafty; this one is just as bad… with your clothes… You’ll need this.”

 

“Thank you.” She said softly, pushing herself to her feet and walking closer to take the blanket.

 

He caught her hand, not harsh or painfully, but enough to keep her from moving away again for the moment, “What is your name?” ‘Of all the questions you could ask, _that’s_ the one you choose?’ he thought to himself—but for the moment it was what he wanted to know most.

 

“Gwen.”

 

‘Gwen. It’s fitting.’ A very unusual name, but pretty. He started to introduce himself, then realized something… His grip tightened, not quite painfully, but to get her attention and it was close, “How did _you_ know **my** name?”


End file.
